


inside your neon shrine

by andtimestoodstill



Series: i swear to god the devil made me do it [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: 12k self-indulgent words, Adam Parrish Has No Chill, Adam Parrish Likes Ronan Lynch, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Fluff and Angst, Gratuitous use of italics, Gratuitous use of parentheses, M/M, POV Adam, Set in NYC, adam/gansey/henry go to columbia, author did extensive research of the mta, bc everyone lives in brooklyn, blue goes to brooklyn college, fuck the east river, ronan unironically owns airpods, ronan/noah go to parsons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-13 14:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20175709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andtimestoodstill/pseuds/andtimestoodstill
Summary: Adam cleared his throat, barely able to hear it above the music in his good ear and the ambient noise of the train “Hey, Ronan?” Ronan nodded, still watching Adam. “Do you maybe wanna go out tomorrow? On a date?” Adam could tell that his accent was slipping through the cracks, but he didn’t want to stop listening to the song, and he definitely didn’t want to hear any ways in which his voice gave him away.Thankfully Ronan nodded his head again, a smile playing at the corner of his very kissable mouth.(In which Adam and Ronan are dating, but Ronan doesn’t know that they’re dating, and Adam doesn’t know that Ronan doesn’t know that they’re dating)





	inside your neon shrine

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3BNtCEmxnc)

Adam Parrish hated Ronan Lynch.

Well, that wasn’t true. Adam’s life would be decidedly easier if he really hated Ronan Lynch.

No, Adam Parrish was mad at Ronan Lynch right now despite the fact that Adam Parrish liked Ronan Lynch very, very much.

But that’s not where their story starts.

***

Adam Parrish met Ronan Lynch over a year ago, and while they hadn’t gotten off on the best foot (_You know, Parrish, ‘scholarship student’ isn’t a personality. Neither is ‘fake starving artist’, Lynch_), the two had formed what could only be called a friendship, a few months after their respective best friends, Blue Sargent and Richard Campbell Gansey III had started dating.

Adam and Ronan were the last of their group to get along, really. Ronan and Blue, both vying for Gansey’s time and attention, formed a less than ideal bond in which they teamed up to insult Gansey’s style, personality, and the residual effects of his old-money Virginian breeding.

Gansey insisted that he loved them both equally.

Adam and Gansey, both juniors at Columbia, had bonded over stories of shared core classes professors and annoying frat bros. It also helped that they were both highly intellectual types. Though Gansey, a History major, and Adam, a Mechanical Engineering major, had very little overlapping interests, 

So Adam and Ronan had no choice but to be friends. And once they were past their initial animosity towards each other, it was easy for them to get along. Adam learned that Ronan’s bark was much bigger than his bite, and Ronan learned that Adam wouldn’t put up with his posturing. Having to meet in the middle brought to light the fact that Adam and Ronan were fairly well-suited to being friends.Adam first realized this eight months ago at a party in a pretentious loft in SoHo that was rented by one Tad Carruthers.

(Well, Adam was pretty sure that Tad’s father paid for the apartment, but Tad lived there, which meant that Adam hated it)

Tad was talking Gansey’s ear off about his summer internship with some career politician from New Jersey. Technically, he was talking to Gansey, Adam, _and_ Ronan, but Gansey was the only one really listening. As Tad went on and on about Hoboken (How could one person even come up with so many nice things to say about _Hoboken_?), Adam glanced over to Ronan, the two meeting eyes over Gansey’s coifed hair, conveying their mutual dislike for Tad, this pretentious apartment, and the entire state of New Jersey. Ronan smiled wolfishly, and Adam found himself smiling back. Without speaking, Adam and Ronan slipped away from Tad and Gansey, wordlessly agreeing that they were leaving the party altogether.

Adam and Ronan sat next to each other on the subway, taking the A line into Brooklyn, thighs pressed together between them. Ronan let Adam borrow one of his AirPods (_Wow, Lynch. You really are a stereotype of juvenile affluence. Shut up, Parrish, I think you’ll like this band_) as the train travelled east.

After that night, Adam and Ronan were friends. There was no discussion about it. It just _happened_. They didn’t always get along, of course, but Adam and Ronan had learned to not just to respect each other, but to enjoy each other’s presence.

In eight months, Adam realized that somewhere along the way he had stopped thinking of Ronan as his best-friends-boyfriend’s-best-friend and started thinking of Ronan as his friend-and-maybe-crush.

Okay, so Adam Parrish had a crush on Ronan Lynch. It was fine. Really. Totally fine. Nothing to see here.

Adam tried to keep his feelings locked away in a steel box at the very bottom of the ocean that was his repressed feelings. It was difficult, though. Especially when Ronan laughed or smiled or existed, honestly. Adam had spent so much of his life trying to shrink himself down, to quiet himself, in order to survive. Ronan was loud and in full Technicolor; Ronan made Adam feel _alive_.

So Adam thought about kissing Ronan a lot. Even when Ronan was pissing him off (especially when Ronan was pissing him off). When Ronan lashed out, full of potential energy and scathing comments, Adam thought about how his lips and hands, so used to destroying things, could be put to much better use.

Those were the worst thoughts, really. Adam couldn’t remember the last time he was well and truly annoyed with Ronan, at least not in a way that he thought couldn’t be solved by kissing. And Adam didn’t think he’s feelings were one-sided either. Most of the time, when Adam went to look at Ronan, Ronan was already looking back. He didn’t put it past Ronan to think that pigtail pulling was an effective way to flirt.

And, okay, maybe worked. Adam may have liked the way that Ronan’s barbs would dig their way into his skin, brushing up against open wounds just enough to _feel_ something. Ronan was careful not to poke directly at Adams bruises, but he aimed just around them to remind Adam that he knew where the boundaries were. Adam hated to admit that it was kind of _sweet_.

***

Just like that Friday night eight months ago, Adam and Ronan were riding the A line together from a Columbia party on the Upper East Side, sharing Ronan’s stupid AirPods, as Ronan played songs by bands that Adam had never heard of before.

Ronan, despite liking the kind of music that always made Adam’s heart feel like it’s beating out of his chest (and not in a good way), the music he played for Adam was surprisingly _good_. Tonight, Ronan was playing songs by The Front Bottoms, and Adam was tapping his foot on the floor, straining to make out the lyrics above the rumbling of the train.

Adam glanced over at Ronan but Ronan was already looking back.

A jolt of energy went through Adam, Ronan’s icy eyes setting fire to something deep inside him. Rather than let the fire burn itself out, Adam used the spark to let himself ignite.

Adam cleared his throat, barely able to hear it above the music in his good ear and the ambient noise of the train “Hey, Ronan?” Ronan nodded, still watching Adam. “Do you maybe wanna go out tomorrow? On a date?” Adam could tell that his accent was slipping through the cracks, but he didn’t want to stop listening to the song, and he definitely didn’t want to hear any ways in which his voice gave him away.

Thankfully Ronan nodded his head again, a smile playing at the corner of his very kissable mouth.

“Great—” Adam was interrupted by the stop announcement. Glancing up, Adam realized it was his stop. He hastily pulled the ear bud from his good ear, dropping it in Ronan’s outstretched palm. Ronan had a few more stops. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“What was that?” Ronan asked, pulling the other AirPod from his ear.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked again. Adam felt his cheeks burn.

Ronan smiled. To the casual observer, it looked menacing or even downright scary. But not to Adam. His demons never smiled. “Right,” he nodded again.

Adam stood as the train ground to a halt, doors sliding open. “I’ll text you the details.”

“I look forward to it, Parrish.”

Adam walked the five blocks to the apartment his scholarship stipend paid for in a daze. He floated up the stairs to the fourth floor, unlocking the door and letting it slam behind him. A framed print of Salvador Dalí’s _The Persistence of Memory_ fell from where it was hanging on the wall, to the side table below.

This was a common occurrence, and Adam and Blue were familiar with the clatter it produced. The sound still startled Blue, who had just gotten off of work and was laid out on the faded blue couch watching _The Property Brothers _in nothing but an oversized t-shirt. “Jesus Christ, Adam. You scared me.” She huffed out a breath, blowing a piece of choppy black hair from her face.

“Sorry,” Adam apologized, returning the print to the wall and dropping his keys on the table. He came around to the couch as Blue muted the TV, settling next to her, his hands shaking. “I did it.”

“Huh?” Blue asked, tucking a bare leg underneath her.

“I asked Ronan out. On a date,” Adam felt himself color as Blue’s face shifted from confusion, to shock, to unreserved _elation_.

“Oh my god! And he said yes?” Adam nodded, sheepish. Blue sat up fully, shaking Adam’s arm in glee. “Of course he did. This is great. What are you guys gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” Adam sighed. “I don’t want to do anything cliché, like dinner or a movie. But we’re going out tomorrow, so I need to figure it out.”

“Tomorrow?”

Adam blushed (again). “It just slipped out! I didn’t plan on asking him out, let alone asking him to go out _tomorrow_.” Adam stood, Blue laughing at his nervous pacing. “Shut _up_, Blue.”

She was still giggling, clutching her stomach. “You’re so cute. Don’t worry about it, he’s gonna like it even if you do something boring and cliché like go get dinner.”

“Whatever,” Adam stalked away from the living room, headed to his bedroom. “I’m gonna see what’s going on tomorrow night.”

Blue snickered again. “I can't wait until I give the toast at your wedding to tell everyone there that you did _research_ before your first date.”

Thankfully his back was turned to her, so Blue couldn’t see the blush burning his cheeks. “_Shut up, Blue_,” he repeated, letting his door slam behind him. He could still hear her giggling.

***

Adam had decided that he would take Ronan to some kind of music venue. He was pretty sure what kind of music Ronan liked, so after a little bit of research (just the thought of that brought color to his cheeks), Adam found a bar that featured local indie bands on Saturday nights just across the bridge in Tribeca.

Adam had to work at the Columbia undergraduate library on Saturday afternoon, so he told Ronan to meet him at the venue, rather than trying to make it back to Brooklyn before his date. That way, Adam could worry less about being late, and worry more about how he was going out with _Ronan Lynch_.

Ronan was posted up outside the club when Adam rounded the corner on to Church Street. Adam took the opportunity to stare openly at Ronan before he realized Adam was there. He looked _good_, wearing artfully ripped jeans and a sinfully tight black t-shirt. He had his ever-present leather jacket thrown over one arm, giving Adam a glimpse of the hooks of his tattoo peeking out of his shirt. Adam wanted to jump his bones.

Adam exercised all his self-control as he walked up to Ronan, catching his eye from across the street. Ronan met him in the line snaking out the front door of the venue, smiling wolfishly as Adam sidled up next to him.

“Parrish,” he said.

“Lynch,” Adam replied. They caught each other’s eye, as they waited in line, loud bursts of music drifting out of the club every time the door opened as the bouncer let people in.

When they made it up to the bouncer, IDs in hand, Adam handed over a twenty-dollar bill for the cover charge. Ronan tried to hand over his own cash to the bouncer, but Adam pushed his hand out of the way. “I got it, Ronan.”

Ronan paused, and after a moment he shoved the cash back into his wallet and returned it to his pocket. The two made their way into the club, IDs checked, and hands stamped. The bar was crowded and loud, but the band on stage was pretty good for five greasy-looking teenagers.

“Parrish, you sure this is your kind of place?” Ronan asked, dipping his head down closer to Adam’s good ear.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh, stay on my good side?” He asked, hoping the twinge of red on his cheeks wasn’t visible in the dark of the club.

Ronan smiled, moving a little closer into Adam’s right side. “Of course. Wanna grab a drink?”

“Yeah,” Adam lead the way to the bar, Ronan sticking to Adam’s side. Adam ordered a vodka soda, and Ronan did the same, sliding over a twenty to the bartender before Adam could even get his wallet out. “Hey,” he lightly hit Ronan’s arm as the bartender took the cash and pushed their drinks towards them.

“You can buy the next round,” he teased. “C’mon, Parrish.” Ronan tugged him towards the stage.

He kept his promise and stayed glued to Adam’s good side, when a couple jostled the two of them on their way to the back of the club, Ronan wrapped a hand around Adam’s bicep, keeping him close. Even after the couple was gone, Ronan kept his hold on Adam’s arm, fingers burning through the thin material of his shirt.

They watched a few bands, some better than others, before Ronan said something into Adam’s ear about being hungry, most of the words drowned out by the screeching of the lead singer’s voice echoing through the club. Adam nodded, goosebumps rising along his neck where Ronan’s warm breath washed over him. Ronan, hand still wrapped around Adam’s arm, dragged him out of the club.

No one would describe New York City as quiet, let alone Adam Parrish, but compared to the overwhelming cacophony inside the club, the ambient city noise was kind of calming.

“Bravo’s?” Ronan asked, stepping away from Adam’s side. He missed the heat of him immediately.

“Yeah,” Adam nodded, before falling in step with Ronan as they walked to the nearest subway station. They took the A line into Brooklyn, and Adam was reminded of that night eight months ago that they rode this same train.

“Do you remember that party at Tad’s apartment last year?” Adam asked.

“Do you mean Tad’s downtown _loft_?” Ronan sneered.

Adam laughed, knocking his knee with Ronan’s. “Sorry. Do you remember that party at Tad’s _loft_ last year?”

Ronan breathed out a laugh. “Yeah, why?”

“I don't know, I just was thinking about how that was the night we became friends. At least, that’s when I started thinking of you as my friend.”

Ronan tensed slightly. After a moment he let out a breath, a sharp smile playing at his lips. “Well shit, Parrish. I thought we were friends from the moment you called me a ‘poverty tourist.’”

“I didn’t call you a poverty tourist, I just agreed when _Blue_ called you a poverty tourist. I said that you were a fake starving artist.”

Ronan’s chuckle warmed Adam. He always felt so proud of himself when he could pull a laugh out of Ronan. “How could I forget?”

“You really thought we were friends from the beginning?” Adam asked, genuinely curious. Adam knew his first impression of Ronan was wrong, but he couldn’t imagine that Ronan had actually _liked_ him.

“I guess we had an acquaintanceship of convince.” He joked. “I was just glad that you didn’t live in Manhattan.”

Adam smiled. “Yeah, I only like hanging out with you because it means that I don’t have to cross the East River.”

“Fuck the East River,” Ronan exclaimed. There were a few resounding cheers from the other Brooklynites, and an especially loud whoop from a group of drunken boys at the end of the train car. “Plus, you’re on my train line.”

Adam rolled his eyes. In New York, train lines were deciding factors in all kinds of relationships. Noah had dumped no less than three people because he had to take more than one train to get to their place. Adam was pretty sure that the last person he dated (a math major who looked a little too much like Draco Malfoy for Adam's liking) ghosted him when she found out that he took the A line.

Adam and Ronan got off at High Street, emerging out of the station and headed south. Adam and Blue lived in a tiny two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn Heights. Ronan, Gansey, and Noah lived in a brownstone with giant, south-facing windows in Bed-Stuy. However, the five of them (sometimes six, when Henry made the sojourn across the river to Brooklyn) frequented Bravo’s Pizza in the heart of Brooklyn Heights.

Most New Yorkers were loyal to a pizza shop in their own neighborhood, because no pizza was worth getting on a train for. However, Gansey wasn’t a New Yorker, not at heart, so he scoured the entirety of Brooklyn for the best pizza and settled on Bravo’s. Blue had been working at Bravo’s for about a month by the time Gansey, Ronan, Henry, and Noah had come in last September, and after a few weeks of painful flirting, Blue agreed to go _one_ date with him.

(He took her to the Aquarium, and she fell hook, line, and sinker)

Ever since, Bravo’s was their place. It was their Central Perk or their Maclaren’s Bar (_Those shows suck ass, Parrish. I know, Lynch, but I’m trying to make a point_).

As Adam and Ronan walked into the restaurant, Ronan scoured the place for a booth and Adam went up to the counter to order; two slices of pepperoni for himself, one slice of cheese and one slice of supreme for Ronan, two cokes, and an order of garlic knots to share. Adam paid and took the order number to a booth near the back of the restaurant.

Ronan was sitting and silently shredding napkins when Adam found him. There was a sizable pile going when Adam dropped the table number and slid into the bench across from him.

“What do I owe you?” Ronan asked reaching across the table for the receipt in Adam’s hand.

Adam tucked the paper into his pocket and said, “nothing. It’s my treat.”

“Parrish,” Ronan all but growled. It conveyed more than just those two syllables.

“You paid for my drink.”

“One drink. I paid for _one_ drink.”

“Too bad,” Adam shrugged, feigning causality. “That club was pretty cool, right?”

Ronan shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. “It was great.” He smiled, his real smile. “How did you hear about that place?”

“One of those bands you showed me played there a few years ago,” Adam shrugged, half-lying. After he saw the club’s website, he searched the place on YouTube and saw the video of one of the bands that Ronan had introduced him to playing there. Adam assumed that if a band that Ronan liked played there once, that he would like the bands that would play there tonight. “But you enjoyed it?”

“Yeah, Parrish. I had a great time.”

Adam appreciated Ronan’s sincerity; not sure he could handle the ever-present sarcasm that Ronan carried around. He couldn’t help his smile as a waiter dropped off their food, taking the table number with him.

“You didn’t say that you ordered garlic knots, Parrish.” He took out his wallet, shoving a few dollars towards Adam. He promptly ignored the money on the table, lifting up one of his slices.

“Shut up, Ronan, and eat your damn food.”

They ate and laughed, overstaying their welcome in the restaurant by at least half an hour. Ronan insisted on paying the tip, leaving a ten under his empty glass and following Adam out of the door and into the night. They walked back towards the subway station, Adam assumed that Ronan would take the A train to Bed-Stuy, but he surprised Adam by turning east on Cranberry Street, towards Adam’s apartment.

Adam didn’t mind this detour of course, he thought it would be better to kiss Ronan at his door than at the High Street station anyway. Because what Adam had really been thinking about all night long was not how good or how terrible the bands were, and not how delicious his pizza and garlic knots were, but what it would be like to kiss Ronan Lynch.

(Never mind the fact that Adam was _always_ thinking about what it would be like to kiss Ronan Lynch; but the last few hours had been particularly bad)

They stopped outside Adam’s building, glancing up at the brick exterior. “What are you doing tomorrow?” Ronan asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“I work again, then I’ll probably camp out at the library. I have a lab report due Wednesday that I’m behind on.”

“I still don’t get why you live in Brooklyn when you go to school and work on the Upper West Side.”

“You commute to Greenwich Village four times a week, you’re in no position to judge.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I stupidly let Gansey decide where we would live.”

That was true, Ronan and Noah had no desire to look at apartments at the end of their freshman year. So they came up with a compromise: Gansey had to do all the work of finding a place to live, but in turn, Ronan and Noah weren’t allowed to complain once it was decided. Unfortunately, Ronan and Noah didn’t specify that Gansey had to find a place in Manhattan, and the three boys ended up in Bed-Stuy. They tried to go back on their agreement, but Gansey was in love with Monmouth.

(It didn’t take long for Brooklyn to grow on Ronan, and he made the journey across the East River only when it was necessary. Unfortunately for Ronan’s professors, he didn’t always think that _class_ was necessary)

Adam moved to Brooklyn the summer before his Junior year when Blue had asked him to move in with her. They both needed roommates, and even though he went to Columbia and she went to Brooklyn College, Adam agreed to be the one to move across the river because she was his only friend in the city. As a compromise, Adam insisted that they move someplace where he had to only take one train to get to campus, so Blue committed herself to finding an apartment on the A line.

Thank god for the A line.

“Sometimes I sleep on Henry’s couch if I’m too tired to come back to Brooklyn.” Henry lived in a swanky, if not a little sterile, apartment on the Upper East Side. Apparently, it was a property that his mother had bought years ago for all her business trips to the city. Henry lived there alone, and because he was the only one of their gang who lived in Manhattan, he often had to make the trip across the river if he wanted to hang out. Adam continued, “though, the last three times I did that, he was in the middle of a hook-up, so I’m usually better off going all the way home.”

“Gross,” Ronan wrinkled his nose. His expression brought out some deep and animalistic desire inside of Adam. He wanted to trace the wrinkles with his fingers, to see if they would soften with his touch. And, oh yeah, he really wanted to kiss Ronan Lynch.

“I had fun tonight,” Adam said at last.

“Me too. Thanks, Parrish.” There was that smile again. When he was alone, Adam liked to think of it as _his_ smile. It didn’t carry the sharpness that he saved for strangers and acquaintances, or the fondness reserved for Gansey and Noah. Adam’s smile was raw, and naked, and _real_.

Before that smile could slip away, and before Adam could lose his nerve, Adam stepped closer and kissed Ronan Lynch.

On the cheek.

He could see the bloom of a blush forming on Ronan’s cheeks, and he willed himself to not follow suit. “Night, Ronan,” he said before slipping inside.

Adam hadn’t meant to kiss Ronan on the cheek. But Ronan was facing away, and Adam may have had the courage to kiss him, but not to grab his face and make Ronan kiss him back. So he kissed him on the cheek. That was enough to get the idea across, anyway.

Adam showered and crawled into bed and promised himself that the next time he saw Ronan Lynch, he would kiss him.

***

Like all best laid plans, Adam’s objective of kissing Ronan Lynch fell apart at the seams.

The next time Ronan and Adam were alone together, Ronan seemed hesitant to touch, and to be touched by, Adam. So, Adam had left Monmouth after another kiss on the cheek and took the A train into Manhattan to get to his evening class.

Adam and Ronan had never really talked about their emotional baggage. Over time, things had come up naturally—Adam’s emancipation and estrangement from his parents, Ronan’s father’s death, Adam’s left ear, the bracelets on Ronan’s wrist, their respective sexualities—but there was one glaring hole in Ronan’s backstory: Joseph Kavinsky.

Adam had only heard the name in passing, really. It took some time, and some gentle prodding of Gansey, to figure out that Kavisnky was Ronan’s ex. It was pretty obvious that Kavinsky wasn’t a great guy. In fact, Gansey had called him _a piece of shit drug dealer we went to high school with_. It didn’t bode well for Ronan’s relationship history.

So if Ronan was a little hesitant, a little anxious, about the physical aspects of their relationship, Adam could wait until he was ready. He may seem like he had _absolutely no chill_ (according to Blue), but Adam was really, truly, fine with going at Ronan’s pace.

He just hadn’t expected Ronan Lynch, adrenaline junkie and former street racer, to want to move so fucking _slow_.

After a few weeks of dating, they still hadn’t kissed. Ronan would hug Adam hello or goodbye, and Adam was always sure to greet him with a kiss on the cheek. Sometimes, Ronan would huddle up next to Adam on the couch, but that was only really out of necessity, neither Adam and Blue’s, nor the couch at Monmouth, could fit more than three people comfortably.

But they regularly went on dates. Adam found more music venues, or cool art installations, wanting to show Ronan that he liked all the strange, disparate parts that stitched him together. Of course, as much as Adam wanted to avoid all the dating clichés, they couldn’t avoid dinner and movies forever. Adam learned to enjoy those experiences all the same, wanting to spend time with Ronan one-on-one more than he wanted to avoid clichés.

Since their first date, they _have_ slept together, in the most basic definition of the word. Adam was at Monmouth, binge-watching the new season of _Queer Eye_, when Ronan had invited to him sleep over (_I don’t want you falling asleep on the A train and waking up in Washington Heights again. That was _one_ time, Lynch_) in his _bed_.

(Ronan had a queen-sized bed, so they didn’t even end up touching, but it was still pretty exhilarating)

If Adam really wanted physical affection, Blue was always willing to offer him a hug, or to comb her hand through his hair, or even cuddle up on the couch while they binge-watched _Stranger Things_ together for the millionth time. So Adam was fine. Really.

***

By November, after almost a month of dating, Adam and Ronan had not formally defined their relationship. This, much less than the kissing thing, didn’t really bother Adam. That didn’t mean that Adam didn’t refer to Ronan as his boyfriend in his head (or, in the case of a squirrely freshman who would come up to the check-out desk at the library to flirt with Adam, out loud).

Blue, with her giant fucking mouth, had told everyone about Adam and Ronan’s date. So everyone knew that Adam and Ronan were dating, but it wasn't like they were _surprised_. If anything, they thought it was inevitable. 

Nothing had changed: The sky was blue, and Ronan and Adam were dating.

In some ways, it was good that they were moving slow. Adam and Ronan weren’t good with people, they weren’t good about talking about their feelings. Surely, there were some ways in which Ronan thought that Adam was moving too slow. But this was his first real relationship (he didn’t count the three dates he had gone on with Blue freshman year) and he didn’t want to fuck it up.

This was _Ronan_, he cared too much about him to fuck it up.

It was almost Ronan’s birthday, and after that the holidays; this was the first time Adam would have someone to celebrate with. He wasn’t planning on dragging Ronan around Manhattan to ice skate in Rockefeller Center, or to watch the ball drop in Times Square; but he still planned on taking advantage of having someone to cuddle up with as the weather grew colder.

At the moment, Adam was tracking Ronan on Find my Friends to figure out where he was. It wasn’t creepy. Really, it wasn’t. Adam and Ronan had been surprising each other back and forth with coffee. Last week, Ronan had found Adam while was studying in the engineering library, stressed beyond belief about midterms; and a week before that, Adam had gone to Ronan’s drawing and painting studio after he had been working for almost twelve hours, more graphite than boy by the time Adam had arrived.

Adam’s afternoon class was cancelled, so he took advantage of his unexpected free time to head downtown to Greenwich Village and bring Ronan a pumpkin spice latte. Adam was sworn to secrecy regarding Ronan’s coffee order (_I have a reputation to maintain, Parrish_), but he was more than willing to keep his boyfriend’s secrets.

The problem with trying to surprise your boyfriend with coffee while he worked on his Senior Studio project, was that Adam didn’t have access into the buildings. Without a valid Parsons ID, Adam was stuck waiting outside in the cold for Ronan to come out and let him in.

(Somehow, Ronan was able to get into the Columbia libraries to bring Adam coffee. Adam figured that he either stood outside the library, looking intimidating until someone let him in, or he had stolen Gansey’s student ID)

Stacking the coffee cups in his left hand, Adam called Ronan with his right, putting the phone up to his good ear. Ronan was cellphone-averse, but he never missed Adam’s calls on purpose. Just that thought made Adam smile like an idiot.

“Parrish, please tell me you have coffee,” Ronan said in lieu of a greeting.

“No, actually. I was wondering if I could borrow your _X-Files_ DVD box-set tonight.”

“Oh,” Ronan sounded exhausted, and Adam felt a little bit bad about teasing him. “Yeah, of course. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so you can go to Monmouth to get it when—”

“I’m kidding. I do have coffee.”

There was silence on the other end. “Goddammit, Parrish, you _asshole_.” Adam could hear the smile in his voice.

“I honestly didn’t think that you would be willing to part with your precious David Duchovny,” Adam teased.

“If it means that you’ll watch _The_ _X-Files_…”

Adam’s smile could light up a whole room, he was sure. “C’mon, your coffee is getting cold. Also, I’m getting cold.”

“Patience is a virtue, Parrish.”

“I don’t believe in your Catholic propaganda.”

Adam heard Ronan’s response from behind him, not from his phone. “It’s not propaganda.” Ronan was standing in the doorway to the building, phone to his ear. He ended the call, smiling at Adam tiredly. “Get in here, Parrish, it’s cold outside.”

Adam held out Ronan’s coffee, which he took gratefully, and he followed him inside. Over the last few weeks Adam became familiar with the student studios, and he even greeted the (very) few classmates that Ronan liked by name.

Ronan’s Senior Studio project was a series of elaborate graphite illustrations. There were landscapes and portraits, all done in Ronan’s swirling and overwhelming style. Every time Adam looked at one of these pieces, he saw something new amongst the composition.

Noah was hunched over a canvas on the floor, his final project was a pair of self-portraits done in oil paints. They were complicated and highly detailed, and Noah was very stressed. Before the end of the semester, Noah only had to complete a single portrait, but he had trouble working on just one at a time.

“Hey Adam,” Noah, for all his stress, cheered from the floor.

“Hey Noah, sorry. If I had known you were here, I would have brought you coffee, too.”

Noah stood, and Adam noticed that his clothes were covered in paint and dust. “Don’t worry about it. I was about to head out anyway.”

“Czerny, you’re nowhere _near_ done for the day,” Ronan said.

“I need a break. Some fresh air.” Noah pulled on his coat and a knit hat that Adam recognized as a Blue Sargent original. “Give you guys some privacy,” Noah smiled and was out the door in a flash.

Adam looked to Ronan, who was staring at the door like Noah could feel his glare. “Hi,” Adam said at last. Ronan turned to him, sneer melting off his face, replaced by Adam’s smile.

“Hi,” Ronan stepped closer and pulled Adam in for a hug. Adam breathed in deep, taking in the smell of Ronan’s laundry detergent, graphite, and something uniquely _Ronan_. After he stepped back Ronan said, “wait, aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?”

For Ronan Lynch, truant extraordinaire, to care that Adam was missing class with kind of sweet. “My professor is sick, she cancelled class.”

“Well shit, that works out really well for me, huh?”

“Sure does,” Adam walked around the table, studying the illustration that Ronan was working on today. He only needed three completed pieces by the end of the semester. The current drawing was the largest of the three, a fantastical forest scene. It was a little overwhelming to look at, but that was a distinct aspect of Ronan’s style. “This is amazing, Ronan.”

“Thanks, Parrish.” Ronan leaned on to the table across from Adam, sipping his coffee. “God, I really needed this.” He took another, longer pull from the cup. “It’s like you have a sixth sense for knowing when I need coffee.”

“Humans have more than six senses, Ronan.”

Ronan snorted. “You’re a fucking nerd, Parrish.” He took another sip. “If not a sixth sense, how did you know?”

“Because you’ve spent more time in this studio than your apartment in the last week. Someone’s gotta take care of you.”

“And who’s gonna take care of you?” Ronan raised one dark eyebrow; blue eyes boring into Adam’s

“You are. I’m expecting buckets of caffeine once finals week comes around.”

Ronan huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. His gaze didn’t return to Adam’s when he was done, pulling up his left wrist to chew at the bracelets there. Ronan pushed away from the drafting table and walked over to where Noah’s painting was on the floor, studying it for a moment.

He was wearing a black t-shirt cut into a tank top, and Adam could see the wings of his tattoo peeking out on either side across his broad shoulders. He desperately wanted to see the whole thing, to map out the lines with fingers and teeth and tongue. But Adam had to restrain himself, for his sanity _and_ Ronan’s. With a cleansing breath, Adam joined Ronan, noting the changes to the piece since the last time he had seen it.

It was undoubtedly Noah, but there was a ghoulish look to him. His eyes were dark, endless, and haunting. There was a dark bruise along one cheek, blood pooling under the skin. The painting, while beautiful and exact, was deeply disturbing.

“It’s…”

“Yeah,” Ronan replied, a little bit of a laugh in his voice. “It’s meant to be kind of…” he trailed off, obviously not sure what to say. “Macabre.”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

Ronan chuckled, knocking his shoulder with Adam’s. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Blue wants to have a horror-movie marathon. She thinks that we _didn’t do Halloween right_, so she’s demanding reparations in the form of Stephen King movies.” Ronan hadn’t stepped out of Adam’s space, so Adam took the opportunity to brush his hand against his.

“You know, _The_ _X-Files_ would be a great way to posthumously celebrate Halloween.” Ronan’s hand twitched and brushed back up against Adam’s in return.

“Ronan, no one but you has a crush on David Duchovny. And I don’t just mean amongst our friends, I mean in the world in general.”

Ronan scoffed. “That’s not true! Noah thinks he’s cute.”

Adam turned to look at Noah’s painting on the floor. “Excuse me if I don’t really trust Noah’s judgement at the moment.”

Ronan’s laughter bubbled out of him, like he hadn’t expected it to rise to the surface. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right.” The two stood in silence for a few beats, Ronan bringing his wrist up to his mouth. “Look don’t take this the wrong way—”

“But you want to know when I’m gonna leave?”

Ronan laughed humorlessly, rubbing at his tired eyes and then dropping his hands by his side. “Yeah? I just have a ton of work to do and you’re very… distracting.”

Adam took that for the compliment it obviously was. “I have a calculus problem set I have to get to anyway, don’t worry about it.” Adam stepped back from Noah’s painting, grabbing his coffee from the drafting table. “Will you try to get outside at some point today? And not just before midnight, but while the sun is still up?”

Ronan laughed, finishing off his coffee. “I’ll try, Parrish.”

“Good,” Adam leaned in to kiss Ronan’s cheek. Since that first kiss, Ronan hadn’t blushed again. It was a shame, really. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Bravo’s for lunch?” Both Ronan and Adam had Fridays off, so over the past few weeks, they met up for lunch for some much-needed alone time. He loved his friends, really, but he wanted to hang out with his boyfriend more.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then, Parrish.” He leaned in to hug Adam. At the last second, Ronan dropped a kiss on Adam’s forehead. Now it was _Adam’s_ turn to blush.

Adam floated out of the studio and all the way to Brooklyn.

***

“Ugh, what the hell am I gonna get him?” Adam moaned, flipping through a rack of sweaters, Blue at his side. “He would never wear any of this.”

Adam still hadn’t found Ronan a birthday present, and Gansey was throwing him a party at Monmouth tonight. Blue had dragged him to the shopping district after her morning class, despite the fact that Adam knew Ronan wouldn’t want something bought in Manhattan. Blue didn’t care, there wasn’t time to scour Brooklyn for the perfect gift.

“You know what would be better than anything you could buy?” Blue asked, eyebrows already waggling.

“Shut up, Blue. I’m not going to pass of a _kiss_ as a birthday present.”

“Why not?”

Blue was perfectly aware of _why not_, but she thought that Adam was making excuses. Where that thought came from, Adam didn’t know. It was pretty obvious that he wanted to push Ronan up against a wall (or, god forbid, have _Ronan_ push _Adam _up against a wall) and kiss him senseless.

“This is the first time I get to do something like this. I want to do it right,” Adam said at last.

Blue sidled up to him, appraising the sweaters. “You’re right. This is all wrong.” She paused, “okay, okay. I have an idea, but we have to hurry.”

Blue’s idea was kind of perfect, especially given the time crunch.

A few hours later, Adam and Blue were on the A line, headed to Bed-Stuy for Ronan’s party. Blue had been put in charge of the cake, a massive, chocolate thing that they would pick up from a bakery a few blocks from Monmouth. Ronan’s gift was in a bag hanging at Adam’s side, and with each minute that passed, Adam grew more and more nervous.

Monmouth was bumping by the time Adam and Blue arrived. Gansey had insisted on inviting Ronan’s art school friends, as well as some of their less-shitty classmates from Columbia. Hopefully, it would be a good night. And if anything, Adam and Ronan had a habit of ditching parties together, anyway. If the party sucked, Adam would be more than willing to disappear with Ronan for a few hours.

“Hey, Adam! Jane!” Gansey cheered, already on his way to tipsy, when Adam and Blue came in. He leaned in to kiss Blue, and then held out his fist for Adam to bump. Gansey pointed out where everything was like Adam and Blue weren’t intimately familiar with Monmouth. “Alright, drinks are in the kitchen, food’s in the living room, and the birthday boy is somewhere among the masses.” Gansey wasn’t exaggerating, there were a _ton_ of people here. Where did Gansey find this many people?

There was a speaker system in the corner, and Adam recognized the song playing from one of Ronan’s Subway Music Education Classes. People were milling about, eating, drinking, talking. He didn’t recognize most of the people in the room. It was A Lot.

“Go find your boy,” Blue said, leaning towards Adam’s good ear to be heard over the din. “Gansey, help me with this cake.”

“Of course,” he replied, happily letting Blue drag him towards the kitchen.

Adam found Ronan talking to Noah and a few other people from Parsons. He was laughing at something a blonde girl, with designs shaved into the side of her head, had said. Ronan looked happy and at ease, even amongst all these people.

Ronan caught Adam’s eye from across the room, Adam’s smile lighting up his face as he raised his drink in greeting. Adam made his way across the room to Ronan, sidling up next to him, reaching up to drop a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Parrish,” Ronan said into Adam’s good ear, wrapping an arm around Adam’s shoulders. “Do you know Callie and Jenna?” Ronan gestured to the girls he was talking to. Adam didn’t recognize them.

“Hi, I’m Adam.” He smiled at Callie and Jenna, slipping right into their conversation.

Later, after a few drinks and a rousing game of Never Have I Ever (_Never have I ever puked in someone’s closet. Fuck off, Parrish. Carruthers deserved it_), Adam dragged Ronan upstairs to his bedroom. There was a wolf-whistle from somewhere in the apartment that Adam chuckled at.

“I have a gift for you,” Adam said, holding up the gift bag he had been carrying around all evening.

“Oh, a gift? For me? You shouldn’t have,” Ronan joked, falling back on to his bed, patting the spot next to him for Adam to sit.

Adam rolled his eyes, settling down next to Ronan, handing the bag over. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, Parrish.” Ronan gave Adam another smile before dipping his hand into the bag. He pulled out the gift, tissue paper falling back inside. Turning it over in his hand, Ronan blew out a breath.

It was a photo that Henry, during his amature photography phase, had taken of Adam and Ronan a few months ago. Adam, at the time, was so embarrassed by the picture, so sure that his crush on Ronan was painfully obvious. In the photo, Adam and Ronan were leaning into each other, Ronan’s face turned towards Adam, saying something that made Adam laugh into Adam’s good ear. The look of absolute joy on Adam’s face was embarrassing, even now that he and Ronan were dating.

Blue had the photo printed in black and white at a one-hour photo place, and had it framed. In terms of gifts, it wasn’t crazy exciting, but Adam was on a time and monetary budget. For what he was working with, it was perfect.

“Wow. Adam…” Ronan looked up to see Adam already looking back. He started to lean into Adam’s space, and Adam was so sure that this was finally it—

Then Ronan’s door slammed open, Henry, in all his spiky-haired glory, standing in the threshold. Ronan jumped away and Adam shot Henry the dirtiest look he could muster. “Birthday boy, it’s time for cake, not canoodling.” Henry was, in his defense, very drunk, swinging a bottle of Tito’s up towards his lips.

Ronan placed the photo on the bed behind him, before standing violently and pushing past Henry in the door, grumbling “shut the fuck up, Cheng” as Henry stumbled out of the way.

Adam, left high and dry on Ronan’s bed, sighed. “C’mon, Parrish. Cake!” Adam stood and joined the party, taking his spot at Ronan’s side. Ronan, face lit by a dangerous number of candles on his cake, smiled down at Adam, making him feel like they were all alone in the crowded room.

***

Adam, Ronan, Blue, and Gansey were all on the Amtrak to DC three days before Christmas; Noah had flown to California a few days ago, and Henry was already in Vancouver, ready for their respective holiday festivities.

A few months ago, Adam had agreed to spend the week and a half he could afford to take off over winter break with Blue and the ladies of Fox Way. Returning to Virginia was always a little unnerving, but this wasn’t the first time since he had started at Columbia, and it got easier each time to go back. Of course, Fox Way was crowded, especially at the holidays, so Adam had resigned himself to sleeping on the couch. It would be a fun vacation, but not necessarily a relaxing one.

However, a few weeks ago, at the beginning of December, Ronan had asked Adam what his winter break plans were.

“I’m gonna spend it with Blue in Henrietta,” Adam said, his gaze remaining fixed on the textbook in front of him. It was Ronan’s turn to bring Adam coffee, Adam was camped out in the engineering library, preparing for finals week.

“Isn’t she going to DC with Dick?”

Adam glanced up and watched Ronan take a sip of his coffee, eyes trained on his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Uh, yeah. For the New Year, I have to head back to the city on the second anyway. I just planned on staying at Fox Way even if Blue wasn’t there.”

“What would you say,” Ronan started, pausing to clear his throat. “To staying with me instead?”

“What?” was all Adam could say in response.

“I mean, we could still hang out with the Maggot every day; the Barns is only 30 minutes away from the witches’ den.” Adam rolled his eyes. “And I don’t mind taking you to the Amtrak station.” Adam still didn’t respond. “Plus, you could sleep in an actual bed.”

“Oh yeah?” Adam was able to get out.

“Yeah, Mom just finished renovating the guest room. She wants to show it off.” Ronan took another sip of his Pumpkin Spice Latte.

_Guest room? _Adam thought to himself. After a second, he remembered that the Lynches were Catholic; and Aurora Lynch may be okay with Ronan being gay, but she probably wouldn’t want her unmarried son to share a bed with his boyfriend. She couldn’t control what he did thousands of miles away in the Big City, but she could control what he did in her house.

“Are you sure that it’s okay with your mom?” Adam was, apparently, very concerned about what Aurora Lynch thought.

“Yeah, I already asked her.” Ronan was too casual, it was pretty obvious that he was trying really, _really_ hard to be casual about asking his boyfriend (who he hadn’t even _kissed_ yet) to spend the holidays with him.

Adam felt better to see that Ronan was nervous. “Then, yeah. I’d love to.”

Ronan’s smile was almost _too_ blinding.

So the four of them were taking the train to DC, Gansey’s sister, Helen was set to pick him up from the Amtrak station, and Matthew Lynch would be picking up Ronan, Adam, and Blue in Ronan’s beloved BMW, and taking them back to Virginia.

The gang got off the train after the three-hour trip, stretching their legs and lugging their suitcases on to the platform. Gansey gave Adam, Ronan, and Blue a tearful goodbye before slipping into a shiny black Suburban. Matthew arrived a few minutes later, Ronan’s shark-like BMW pulling up to the curb. The driver’s door opened, Matthew’s blonde curls bouncing as he ran over to his brother. Adam and Ronan loaded the bags into the trunk as the brothers hugged and said hello.

“Matty, you remember Adam and Blue?” Ronan said, finally pulling away.

“Yeah, hi guys. Merry Christmas.” Matthew’s energy was contagious, and Adam felt a smile pulling at his lips.

“Alright, let’s hit the road. Keys?” Ronan asked Matthew. The blond tossed the key fob to his brother, and Ronan prowled around the front of the car, letting a hand trail over the hood reverently, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Adam, you can sit up front,” Matthew said, opening up the back door.

“You sure?”

“Oh yeah. C’mon, Ronan’s gonna leave us behind.”

Adam laughed, and climbed into the passenger seat. Ronan was fiddling with the knobs on the stereo, a quiet little smile playing at his lips. Once everyone was buckled, Ronan pulled away from the curb and hit the road.

The look in Ronan’s eyes was one that was familiar to Adam, but he didn’t see it often. It was the intensity he had when he had a pencil or a paintbrush in his hand, or when he was listening to a song with the intent to really understand it. It was the same look that Adam sometimes found directed at _him_. Ronan looked most like himself behind the wheel of a car, the Virginian countryside blurring past.

Adam recognized the turn into the driveway of the Barns, even though this was only the second time he had been there. Ronan stopped the car at the end of the drive, as soon as the house was in view. Dusted with snow, the Barns was made up of more magic than usual. Adam watched Ronan take in the sight of his childhood home. There was a softness, not only to his expression, but to his stature as well, shoulders drooping down away from his ears.

Adam realized that this was the first time in a long time that Ronan looked at peace.

God, he never looked more beautiful.

“C’mon, Ro, take us home.”

Adam spoke quietly, just loud enough to be heard over the pounding EDM echoing through the car. Ronan looked over to Adam, his face looking severe and sharp in the light from the dash. Adam couldn’t read his expression. Ronan didn’t say anything, turning back to the road and taking them up the drive.

Aurora Lynch greeted them at the door, hugging everyone, including Adam, who she had only met once last summer. She was just as warm and bright as Adam remembered, shuffling everyone inside for dinner. They had dropped Blue off at Fox Way before coming to the Barns, so it was just Adam and the Lynches now.

Declan Lynch, or a person Adam assumed was Declan Lynch, was setting the table when everyone came inside. Adam watched as Ronan sidled up to his brother, taking the silverware from Declan’s hands.

“Declan,” he said.

“Ronan.”

The brothers smiled at one another, the same sharp edge present in both of them. “This is Adam Parrish,” Ronan said at last, gesturing at Adam with a handful of butter knives before setting them down on the table.

“Declan Lynch,” Declan said, arm outstretched to shake.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Declan sounded just like a politician. He was everything Tad Carruthers wanted to be.

(_Shit, Parrish, I don’t even know who that’s a bigger insult to_)

“Ronan! Declan!” Aurora called from the kitchen. “Come help me with the food.”

“Sit,” Ronan said before leaving the dining room. He gestured the chair in front of him, flashing Adam a smile before slipping out of the room. Adam sat, a few minutes later, the entire Lynch clan had joined him for dinner and stories and laughter.

Adam couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so at peace.

***

Adam’s vacation had passed in a blur. As promised, Adam had seen Blue every day, hanging out around the Barns, not wanting to step in Henrietta proper. Adam was so happy, so full of light, he didn’t want it to be ruined by the memories associated with his hometown.

On Christmas morning, Matthew barged into the guest room just as the sun was rising. How he had all that energy was beyond Adam; the Lynches had attended midnight mass and hadn’t made it back to the Barns until close to two that morning.

Adam met the Lynches in the living room, settling next to Ronan on the worn leather couch. Over the last few days, this had become his spot. He felt like he had wormed himself into the little bubble of warmth and love that was the Barns. He was just as much a fixture of the place as the rolling hills or the herds of cows.

There were gifts exchanged, and Aurora had spoiled Adam almost as much as her sons. Adam had given Aurora, Declan, and Matthew gift cards based on Ronan’s recommendation, and they all seemed so genuinely thankful that Adam couldn’t find it in him to feel embarrassed.

Adam’s gift for Ronan had been much harder to find. Ronan, a few months ago, had mentioned looking into getting a record player, and Adam thought that it would be nice to get his collection started. Blue had found a record store in Williamsburg, and Adam bought a few honest-to-god vinyl records of some of Ronan’s favorite albums. Ronan was in awe of Adam’s gift, thanking him again and again.

Ronan’s gift for Adam made him mad, only because he liked it _too_ much. Adam wasn’t sure how, but Ronan had found a first edition copy of one of Adam’s favorite books, _East of Eden_. After a lot of silent arguing, Adam took the gift, thanking Ronan with a kiss on the cheek.

Adam loved the Barns, and he didn’t want to have to leave its warmth and light. When Adam moved to New York, had he had promised himself that he would never return to Henrietta. And Adam truly had fallen in love with the city, but he could see himself making a home _here_. To waking up every day in a house built on love.

Maybe in a few years.

***

New Year’s Eve was a quiet affair at the Barns. Declan had returned to DC and Matthew was far less passionate about the New Year than Christmas (that didn’t mean he wasn’t bouncing around excitedly, but it relative). Ronan, Adam, and Matthew were out on the porch, Aurora in the kitchen pouring out a few glasses of champagne for them to celebrate the New Year. Aurora returned, flutes in hand, and Adam watched the clock.

Matthew and Aurora counted out from ten as midnight approached, and Adam sidled up next to Ronan, elbows knocking together. Ronan smiled down at Adam, and Adam smiled up at Ronan. As the clock struck midnight, Adam, fueled by love, and a little bit of champagne, leaned over and kissed Ronan square on the mouth.

It was a chaste kiss. A peck, really. But _god_, it was still everything Adam had wanted for _months_.

“Happy New Year, Ro.” Adam whispered against his lips. Ronan looked, for the first time ever, utterly speechless. Remembering where he was, Ronan stepped away to hug his brother and kiss his mother. Matthew came over to hug Adam as well, making him smile broadly.

After the champagne was gone, Aurora gathered up the empty flutes. “Adam, dear, will you help me in the kitchen?”

“Yeah,” Adam stepped from Ronan’s side, following Aurora inside.

The kitchen was mostly clean, Adam and Ronan had been on dish duty after dinner. Aurora gently placed the flutes in the sink and Adam slid next to her, taking one in hand to start washing it.

“I’m so glad you spent the holidays with us, Adam.”

Adam smiled and looked over to Aurora. “Thank you for having me, Aurora. This was the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” She paused. Nervous. “I often worry about Ronan, while he’s away. I know I don’t need to, he’s in a much better place now than he was a few years ago, but…”

“He’s still your son. You’re always going to worry about him.”

She laughed, the sound so full of joy and love. “That’s true. But, having you here, I think, for the first time, I can send him back to New York without having to worry. My son cares about you very much, Adam. And I know that you two are just friends, but you make him so happy.”

Adam had paused his scrubbing, letting Aurora’s words hang between them. Did she just say that they were _friends_?

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” she laughed nervously. “I know it’s not my place to meddle in my son’s love life. And it’s definitely not my place to meddle in yours, but I want both of you to be happy.”

“I-what?” Adam asked again. “I’m sorry, Aurora. I need to speak to Ronan.” He placed the soapy flute back into the basin and went back out to the porch. “Ronan?” he asked from the back door. Ronan was joking about something with Matthew, turning around at the strain in Adam’s voice. “I need to talk to you.” Adam didn’t wait for a response, turning on his heel and leading the way to the guest room.

“What’s going on?” Ronan asked after Adam had closed the door. He had never sounded so _scared_.

“Why didn’t you tell your mom?”

Now Ronan looked confused. “Why didn’t I tell my mom what?”

“That we were _dating_?”

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Ronan’s eyes were wide. “We’re dating?”

Realization dawned over Adam. It was like he had been working on a puzzle for months, not realizing all the pieces were from different boxes until this very second. The kissing, the touch anxiety, the _kissing_; it all finally made sense. Ronan hadn’t wanted to define the relationship because he _hadn’t realized that there was a relationship to define_.

“Oh my god, the fucking _AirPods_” Adam breathed out.

“What?”

“Get out. Please. I need to not see you right now.”

“Parrish. What’s going on? Did you really think we were _dating_?” Ronan sounded incredulous.

“What? Is that so impossible to you?” Adam shot back, angrier than he felt. The shock just came out as heat.

“Uh, yeah.” Ronan breathed.

“Get out,” Adam said again. This time, the anger was real. “Get the fuck out, Lynch.”

Ronan’s face fell. “Parri—” Adam turned away from him, immediately moving to pack his suitcase. He threw clothes and toiletries into the bag haphazardly. “What are you doing?”

“If you’re not going to get out, then I’m going to leave.” Adam didn’t look at Ronan when he spoke, continuing to pack his suitcase, struggling to zip it closed.

“C’mon, Parrish.” Adam continued on. With a sigh Ronan moved the suitcase out of Adam’s reach. “Stop. Look, I’ll go. Just—will you please stay?” Ronan was pleading, blue eyes rounded in desperation. The expression infuriated Adam.

“No. I can't be here anymore.”

“Where are you going to go?”

That was even more infuriating. “I’m calling Fox Way, they’ll come and get me.”

“Parrish—”

“Please, Lynch. Just leave me _alone_.”

Adam didn’t know what it was that finally convinced Ronan to listen to him, but Ronan backed out of the room, the door closing soundly behind him. Willing himself not to cry, Adam called the number for Fox Way that Blue made him save years ago.

Maura answered the phone. “Fox Way psychic services.”

“Maura?”

“Adam? Is that you?”

Adam took a deep breath, keeping the tears at bay. “Yeah, I—”

“Persephone’s already on her way. She should be there in a few minutes.”

Adam was sure that his shock and anger was making him hallucinate. “What?”

“Persephone is on her way to pick you up; she should be there in a few minutes.”

Well, Adam now knew that he would never underestimate the psychic ability of the ladies of Fox Way. “Thank you,” Adam breathed out, voice catching as the tears started to fall.

The line went dead, and Adam gathered the rest of his things, carrying it out to the front door. He opened the door; Persephone hadn’t arrived yet and it was too could outside to wait out there for her. He closed the door.

“Adam?”

“Persephone’s almost here,” Adam said to the door, not trusting himself to turn around. After a few moments, Adam could hear the unmistakable sound of loose gravel crunching under tires. Opening the door, Adam watched the headlights in the distance. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, and he played with the handle of his suitcase. “Thank your mom for me.”

“Please, Adam. Stay. We can tal—”

“Bye, Lynch.”

Adam rolled his suitcase out the door and made his way down to the driveway. Persephone made a wide U-turn and popped the trunk; Adam loaded his bags in the trunk and desperately tried not to look back at the house.

But no one ever said that Adam Parrish wasn’t a masochist. With tears in his eyes, Adam Parrish looked back at the Barns, trying to commit it to memory. With a shaky breath, he got in the car and he didn’t look back.

***

Adam Parrish hated Ronan Lynch.

Well, that wasn’t true. Adam’s life would be decidedly easier if he really hated Ronan Lynch.

No, Adam Parrish was mad at Ronan Lynch right now despite the fact that Adam Parrish liked Ronan Lynch very, very much.

Adam had returned to New York, sad and alone. The three-hour train was more than enough time to wallow and pine over Ronan Lynch. His daily shifts at the library were boring enough to allow him to wallow and pine over Ronan Lynch. Blue, who had been privy to a very emotional phone call from Persephone’s car, was coming back today, with Gansey in tow. She had promised Adam ice cream and pizza and a night in, doing whatever he wanted. Too bad all Adam wanted to do was wallow and pine over Ronan fucking Lynch.

Adam was sprawled out on the couch, in the hoodie he had borrowed (stolen) from Ronan a few weeks ago when he was studying at Monmouth, and pair of boxer briefs, watching _House Hunters: International_, when there was a knock at the door. Assuming Blue’s keys were buried at the bottom of her purse, Adam stood and opened the door for her.

Realizing that the knocker was, in fact, not Blue Sargent but instead Ronan Lynch, Adam immediately slammed the door closed. The Dalí painting fell off the wall with a resounding _clatter_.

“Parrish!” Ronan called through the door. “Please, I want to talk.”

Adam leaned against the door, hitting his head against the wood a few times weighing his options. On one hand, Adam did not want to look at Ronan Lynch’s stupid beautiful face if he wasn’t allowed to kiss it. On the other hand, Ronan was his best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend (Adam patently did _not_ think about how Ronan had been Adam’s friend, no strings attached, for a long time now); Adam was going to have to deal with him sometime.

Glancing down at the hoodie and his underwear, Adam colored. If Ronan was going to come inside, Adam needed to change. He opened the door just a little. “Fine, let me put on some pants.”

Ronan nodded, and Adam tried not to let his eyes drag over Ronan’s body, but he couldn’t help himself. Settling on his face, Adam saw the dark bags under Ronan’s eyes. Adam did not want to think about what that meant, closing the door again, and padding back into his room. Adam slipped on the nearest pair of clean pants he could find and swapping out Ronan’s hoodie for a ratty Coca-Cola t-shirt.

Adam made his way back to the front door, opening it without comment, settling down on the couch, and turning off the TV. Ronan sat next to him, the silence deafening.

“I called Gansey, after you left. It seems that I was the only one who hadn’t realized we were dating.”

Adam tried to shake off the residual embarrassment. “I get that you didn’t hear me the first time I asked you out, but it’s been three _months_, Lynch.”

“I know. I just, I don’t know. I thought it was just what friends do.”

Adam blanched. “I kissed you!”

“On the cheek!” Ronan shot back.

“And?”

“You,” Ronan glanced up at the ceiling. “You kiss Blue on the cheek. I just thought…”

“You thought that by hanging out alone with you and kissing you I was, what? Putting you in the _friend zone_?” The absolute absurdity of the thought choked a laugh out of Adam.

“I,” Ronan huffed out a laugh too. “On the train, after we went to the club, you said something about us being friends. I thought it was because I was getting a little too touchy, or whatever, and you were trying to… put me in my place.”

Adam, who’s emotions had been out of control over the last few days, felt suddenly empty. This was all so ridiculous and confusing. He dropped his head into his hands. “You’re an idiot.”

Ronan sighed. “I know, I know. But I wanted it too much.”

“What?”

“I wanted it to be real so much that I think I convinced myself that it wasn’t.”

Adam looked up. “I don’t get what you’re saying.”

Ronan did his smoker’s breath, eyes slipping closed. When he opened them again, there was a new kind of intensity hidden there. “I think that the reason I didn’t realize we were dating was because I _wanted_ us to be dating. I thought my feelings for you were unrequited, and I had to keep myself from reading into every little thing.”

“Ronan,” Adam sighed. “I wasn’t subtle.”

“I know that _now_,” Ronan took another deep breath. “I thought that maybe you had gotten to a point with me that you were comfortable with all those causal, platonic touches. And I liked that, I liked that we could be close like that even if it wasn’t what I wanted.”

“And what _do_ you want?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“I thought that it was obvious that you were my boyfriend. Forgive me if I think we need to clari—”

Adam’s sentence was cut-off by Ronan’s mouth. More specifically by Ronan’s mouth being pressed up against Adam’s mouth, in a searing, time-stopping, heart wrenching _kiss_.

_Oh_.

In the darker, lonelier, moments over the last few days, Adam thought about kissing Ronan Lynch. Of course, this wasn’t a new activity for him, but Adam tortured himself with the conclusion that had he kissed Ronan sooner, like after their first date, perhaps, he wouldn’t have gotten himself into this mess. Adam realized that he had missed out on three months of Ronan’s kisses, three months he could never get back.

And Adam had been missing out on a lot, apparently.

Then, Ronan Lynch stuck his tongue in Adam’s mouth; and Adam realized that he had made a grave error all those months ago. He could have been kissing Ronan Lynch like this, all heat and fire and light, for _three months_.

Then, Ronan Lynch buried his hands in Adam’s hair, and all coherent thought left him.

Ronan pulled away, chest heaving as he tried to draw in a breath. “Does that, uh, clarify things?”

Adam could only nod, tugging Ronan by the neck (when had his hands moved there?) back to his lips. Ronan stifled a laugh against Adam’s mouth, letting the momentum take them down even further, until they were sprawled out on the couch, Ronan hovering over Adam, kissing him like he was a breath of air after he had been drowning.

_It’s okay_, Adam thought. _I’ve been drowning, too_.

Ronan started to trail kisses down Adam’s cheek and down his neck, pulling truly embarrassing noises from the other man’s lips. “Why didn’t you kiss me before?” he rasped against Adam’s pulse point.

It took Adam a moment to gather his thoughts. “I was, _oh_,” Ronan bit a particularly sensitive spot under his jaw. Adam could feel the twist of his lips forming a smirk. “Trying to respect your boundaries.”

Ronan laughed fondly. “And I was trying to respect yours.”

“Hey, c’mere.” Adam tugged on Ronan’s head, fingers running over the stubble at the nape of his neck. Ronan moved back up to Adam’s face, balancing his weight over Adam’s body. “Ronan Lynch, I like you a lot.” He couldn't control the way his accent slipped out, but it didn't seem that Ronan minded.

Ronan blushed, the sight warming something in Adam’s chest. “Thanks, Parrish.” Ronan ducked his head, making to continue his work at Adam’s neck. Adam wouldn’t let him move, keeping his hold on Ronan’s jaw.

“_Ronan_,” said in a way that a less generous person would call a whine. “Say it back.”

With a sigh, “Adam Parrish, I like you a lot.” The blush was moving down Ronan’s neck and up to the tips of his ears.

“Thank you,” Adam let go, and Ronan returned to his work at Adam’s neck.

“I like when you call me that,” Ronan whispered into his neck. Adam languidly ran a hand across Ronan’s hair, going with and against the grain.

“What?” Adam asked. All the blood in his body was rushing south, so it wasn’t a surprise that Adam couldn’t quite follow Ronan’s line of thought.

“‘Ronan,’” he said. “I like it when you call me ‘Ronan.’”

_Oh_.

“Oh, okay. Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Ronan, satisfied with that answer moved back up to Adam’s mouth, bringing their lips together. Fully distracted by Ronan’s talents with his tongue, Adam did not register the sound of the door to his apartment opening.

“Adam?” Blue called from the door. The two boys making out on the couch shot up at once, gazes settling on Blue Sargent’s form in the threshold. Seeing Adam and Ronan on the couch, the former with what could only be described as _sex hair_, and the latter missing a shirt (When had that happened?), a smile spread over her face. “Oh, so sorry to interrupt.” Blue then moved to leave the apartment and close the door behind her.

“Wait!” Adam called. Blue turned to him; one dark eyebrow raised. Ronan was still on his lap, and still very shirtless. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll stay at Monmouth tonight. Give you guys some, ah, privacy.”

“Oh,” was all Adam could muster.

“Thanks, Maggot. Now get out of here” Ronan smirked, eyes never leaving Adam. He pushed Adam back down into a vertical position, swallowing Adam’s goodbyes with his mouth.

Blue laughed and called, “please don’t have sex on our couch, but if you do, please use protection” very loudly over her shoulder. Adam could only think about the fact that Blue and Gansey apparently already _had_ sex on this couch for a moment, his attention being dragged back to Ronan Lynch and The Things He Could Do with His Tongue.

Adam, still a little annoyed with Blue said, “it would serve her right.” Ronan had moved over to Adam’s right ear, tongue laving at the skin behind it.

“Huh?” Ronan asked, his voice so close to Adam’s ear, so soft and blissed out. Adam felt himself shiver.

“To have sex on the couch.”

_Fuck_.

Adam hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He twisted away from Ronan’s attentive and enthusiastic mouth. “Uh, I mean—”

Ronan’s lips followed him, closing back in on the skin behind Adam’s good ear. “Whatever you wanna do, Parrish. I’ve got all day.”

Adam could feel himself flush, hands dragging up from Ronan’s trim waist, to his broad shoulders, nails scratching at the lines of his tattoo. “Is that a promise?”

Ronan pulled away from Adam’s ear, hovering over Adam. “I’ll do you one better." He sucked in a breath. "You’ve got me as long as you want me, Adam.”

Moving his hands up to Ronan’s nape, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. “Sounds perfect,” he whispered against Ronan’s lips.

***

Later, when they were sated, breathing returning to normal, Adam watched the shadows across the floor lengthen as the sun began to set. “Ro?” Adam rasped. The boy in question picked up his head from where it was resting on Adam’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, and looked Adam in the eye.

“What do I say if someone asks how long we’ve been dating?”

Ronan blushed and tucked his head back down, under Adam’s chin. “Uh, either three hours or three months?”

“God, you’re such an idiot,” Adam said, with such a fondness.

Ronan looked up again, blue eyes crinkled at the corners, smiling Adam’s smile. “Yeah, but now I’m _your_ idiot.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, yeah. I thought this would be like ~5,000 words and then this happened. There's also a version from Ronan's POV I'll post later. 
> 
> I guess as far as notes go:  
1\. Bravo's Pizza does exist, but it's not in Brooklyn. I would recommend it if you find yourself in the west village and drunk on tequila. Best pizza I've ever had.  
2\. This was inspired by a post on tumblr, but I can't find it. Let me know if you do.  
3\. The Front Bottoms are awesome and you should listen to them.
> 
> Comments/Kudos are always greatly appreciated ♥︎
> 
> You can find me [here](https://andtimestoodstill.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [got my heartbeat (skipping down sixteenth avenue)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20415394) by [cosmicwritings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwritings/pseuds/cosmicwritings)


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